


Forgive Me, Father

by itsme_JP



Category: Shefani
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsme_JP/pseuds/itsme_JP
Summary: I know what it feels like crossing the lineBut I never felt shame, never felt sorryNever felt guilty touching your bodyIf it's so wrong why did it feel so right?Sinning with you~Sam HuntDisclaimer: AU smut
Relationships: Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani
Comments: 87
Kudos: 83





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Wow... so here we go again! The start of this story has been sitting in my drafts for a good year now. I’ve gotten away from writing for a number of reasons and didn’t think I’d ever post it, but what xoelectric expressed the other day resonated hard.
> 
> Be well everyone.  
> 

We all have that one person in life. The person that can stop the clock and steal your breath. The person that can make your head spin until you no longer believe that you are operating on the same axis as the Earth. The person who everyone would say you have a “history” with… You know, the type of history that causes you to wonder years later why the two of you never became more than just that.

*

It was the summer of 1996 in Kingston, Oklahoma and Blake Shelton had just turned fourteen. He was intent on doing all that he could to stretch out every last minute he had with his best friend, Eric, before the boy and his family moved to Los Angeles for the new school year. The two fished the lake, scavenged the woods and played hide and seek in the picturesque wilderness until the sky was painted in soft pink and purple hues. Quite often, Eric’s quirky little sister tagged along, like she had been for most of her twelve plus years. In fact, it was getting to the point where Blake figured he’d actually miss her silly banter, too, when she was gone. Gwennie had coffee brown hair, big doe eyes and a giggle that gave away her position anytime she was near. It was this sweet sound that drew Blake in behind the old wooden storage shack, amongst some hydrangea bushes, one night in early August.

“Found you!”

He chirped happily into her ear as he slipped in behind her, lightly tugging at her loose denim overalls.

“Cowboy!”

She squealed and turned, and it was the first time he noticed that she wasn’t exactly a child anymore. He took in her changed facial features, which appeared to be highlighted with a thin application of makeup, and wondered to himself when this had even happened. How did Eric’s little sister turn into this very pretty girl?

His foot shifted nervously as her expression quickly became one of worry.

“What’s wrong, Blake?”

He swallowed and shook his head, unable to fully corral all of the thoughts pinballing around his teenaged brain. He had never felt this conscious of himself around her before.

“Nothing, really... I guess it’s just that I’m going to miss you, Gwennie. When you leave.”

She smiled shyly at him and then reached out so that her tiny fingers could gently squeeze his larger ones. A firefly buzzed and flickered nearby, mirroring the electricity he felt surging between them.

“You better not tell Eric that.”

Blake grinned and nodded because his best buddy would surely kill him if he knew how his feelings had suddenly grown for this girl. His soft, blue eyes met her gaze and their palms shifted until they were completely open and pressed together. He liked the feel of her delicate skin against his. The boy then watched intently as her tongue smoothed over her cherry tinted lip gloss, noting the way their breaths both synchronized and shallowed the closer they got in proximity. Eventually, more whispered words broke through her lips.

“You know, you were my first crush so I guess that means I’ll miss you a little, too...”

Gwen’s cheeks flushed softly, and Blake took pride in her reaction even though he felt his neck burning with a similar swath of color. He instinctively moved one hand to rub at his nape.

“Really? I was?”

She ducked her chin slightly and quickly bounced her head once in the affirmative. He knew then that her admission still held true. At that, he felt everything around him begin to slow and imprint on his brain - the sticky heat coating his dark curls, the fragrance of the petaled tufts lingering in the air, the beautiful innocence radiating from her tomboy cute appearance.

Something was changing in his young life.

He sucked in a swig of oxygen and bravely tipped Gwen’s jaw upwards, while slowly leaning down toward her. She stretched up on her toes to meet him and their lips bumped and brushed ever so gently. It was new and exhilarating, so much so that they stood there frozen like that for maybe a few seconds too long. But then again, how could he have really known what was too long? It was his first kiss.

When he could finally move again, he straightened his lanky frame and awkwardly pecked at her forehead once more with a stupid smile pasted on his face. She giggled at him with a bright, goofy grin. They then ran off together to find where Eric was hiding, a ripe secret hanging in the balance.

Eric didn’t catch them that night, although he was a bit annoyed that he was stuck lying in the damp sand under the dock for a period longer than he would have liked. In fact, he didn’t ever let on to Blake that he knew about the two of them stealing moments out of their last summer to practice their kissing skills. Of course Blake felt guilty for sneaking around his best friend, but he absolutely relished the brief slivers of time he got with Gwennie. They talked in a way they never had before and experimented with tongues under the stars. He draped his thin, plaid button up around her when she was chilled and flashed his dimples when she laughed at his jokes. It was the first time he had gotten a taste of the delicacies that life had to offer.

Unfortunately for him, though, it all ended before it really had a chance to begin.

Blake gave Gwen the tarnished cross pendant that hung around his neck only two weeks later; the day before he watched the Stefani’s pack up and go. He managed to hold in his anger and his tears as he did his best to tell Gwen how great her life would be in California.

“You’ll meet new people. You’ll have all kinds of cool opportunities there.”

He kissed her salty mouth tenderly in the sanctuary of his weathered treehouse and thumbed at the watery streaks marking her cheeks. He then forced himself to go eat burnt hotdogs over a campfire with Eric, while silently wishing he had the power to make them both stay. Of course he had his own family - his mom and his two older siblings - but this particular family was just as much ingrained in him now. The teen didn’t know what he would do without them nearby.

He didn’t sleep well that night and could barely stand as the Stefani’s finally pulled out of the lane in their bursting, blue station wagon. Blake could see Eric waving glumly in behind Gwennie, who could only drag the pads of her fingers down the glass of her window. How was this happening? He had hugged them both tightly only minutes before with hopeful promises to write and call, and now, it all just felt so futile.

No, he really would use his grass cutting money to pay for the long distance charges and never lose touch. He would maybe even save enough for a visit someday...

The dust kicked up off the car’s tires as it began to accelerate down the quiet country road and soon, there was nothing left for Blake to see but an unsettled cloud of particles.

He wouldn’t forget them.

He would remember her always.

Wouldn’t he?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t read the preface, go do that first. Posting twice to get this one started.
> 
> (Can’t believe I’m doing this, people... lots of nervous energy...)

_Present Day - 2010_

Blake casually surveys the Four Seasons’ grand ballroom before straightening his black tie, which he finds to be slightly askew beneath his dark linen vest. At twenty seven, he isn’t totally accustomed to these formal charity galas just yet, but he has been doing quite well for himself as of late and it seems to be becoming part of the territory. He quietly notes a few of the faces that he should speak to, and peruses the crowd for a possible female candidate that might make his evening more interesting. Unfortunately, no one in his sight line peaks his interest.

“Blake, you clean up well, my friend!”

He recognizes the familiar voice as Eric’s, who he sees cheerfully approaching him from the left. He smiles at the shorter, stockier man and pushes back a stray, chestnut colored wave that has fallen too far over his ocean blue eyes. When his old friend is within an arm’s length, he extends his palm politely.

“Good to see you again, buddy!”

“Likewise. No plus one again I see?”

Eric chides Blake pointedly, but they both know that with his 6’5” frame and striking features, he could have easily brought someone along to the glitzy affair had he wanted to. He replies kindly.

“Nah, I’m not hanging around long tonight.”

When he started making money from producing music in the greater Los Angeles area, Blake made the decision to contribute generously to the arts. This is the primary reason he’s here at this function, dressed to the nines, and also the reason why he was able to reconnect with his childhood playmate only a couple of years back. Eric had apparently found his calling in animation while living in California and chose to support the same general cause.

“Well, don’t leave too fast, okay? I brought someone with me that I want you to say hello to.”

Blake lets out a hearty chuckle while simultaneously shaking his head with a grin. Eric never misses a chance to show off his dates when he in fact has one.

“Alright, man. Whatever you say.”

The tall producer then saunters off to find himself a cold, stiff drink.

*

When Blake first crossed paths with Eric two years prior, he could hardly believe it. He had certainly thought about his friend on occasion, but it had been nearly ten years since they had actually talked. It happened around the time the Oklahoman was beginning to make a name for himself in the music business and one day, at a wine and cheese fundraiser in Studio City, they bumped into each other as if they were back on the main street of their small, rural hometown. Both had changed significantly, but not enough to be complete strangers. Eric quickly invited him to dinner and soon, they were reminiscing about their earlier days.

“You remember playing the guitar by the fire? Those summer nights were the best.”

“Yeah, of course. It felt like I didn’t have a care in the world. Did you keep up with that silly accordion? I can’t believe you learned to play that stupid thing after you found it in the garage.”

“Yeah, a little. It’s still fun to bring out at parties. How’s your Momma, and Mitch and Andie doing by the way?”

“Uh… Mitch passed in an accident a few years after you left. Mom and Andie are still in Oklahoma. Both married now.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, man…I wish I could have been there for you.”

Blake eventually broke the awkward silence to ask about Gwennie and quickly learned that she had just finished school in New York and was considering taking her training to become a nun. That news surprised him because, despite her commitment to church, he couldn’t picture her conforming to life in a convent. However, he supposed he didn’t really know her now and if that was the thing that made her happy, who was he to make a fuss.

The chatter between the two men ebbed and flowed naturally until they finally agreed to exchange cell numbers. Blake saw it as an opportunity to rebuild what they had lost out on as teenagers, and maybe as his last chance to be somewhere in Gwennie’s orbit. He didn’t want to take that for granted.

*

At the bar, the Oklahoma native orders a vodka and tonic and sips it slowly while waiting for his friend to reappear with his date. It doesn’t necessarily bother him to have to pass the time this way, but after two libations and a full hour disappear without a glimpse of Eric, he is decidedly restless and bored of the scenery. The young man quickly excuses himself from the industry gab happening around him in order to wander a bit. At first, he only drifts through the crowd, keen on nabbing tasty appetizers from passing trays, but before long he is headed to the place he always ends up - the garden. Fresh air and the glow of the night stars have always appealed to the country boy in him and tonight is clearly no different. It is something that just sits well with his soul.

When Blake emerges onto the outer terrace, he finds it to be unusually empty. It seems as if a slight cold front has set in which, despite it being June, must have scared off the more scantily clad partygoers. He peels off his tailored jacket anyways, feeling a wave of sweat forming beneath his layers of fitted clothes. He then leans himself forward so that his forearms can rest on a tall, unoccupied bistro table by the fountain. It is undeniably boring, but peaceful - so much so that he finds his mind drifting between topics like his next work project, the farm in Oklahoma and the acquaintances whom he can occasionally call on to share his bed for the night.

He thinks the music from indoors has been largely muffled by the lushness of the foliage around him to this point, but Blake hears it spike with clarity when a door opens up behind him. He assumes it is a server, or maybe even Eric, but when he glances over his shoulder, he is overcome by a vision in red. He scrambles to his full height before spinning around to meet the woman.

“Hi, can I help you?”

She smiles and laughs softly before she answers.

“I’m sorry? Do you work here?”

His long fingers begin to stroke at his gelled hair with a mix of insecurity and embarrassment, but he knows he isn’t willing to tuck his tail and walk away from this girl just yet. He lowers his voice and counters.

“Well no, but I think I could prove to be a pretty useful guy.”

She raises her brow and purses her brightly painted lips, inching closer to inspect him. In return, he eyes her perfectly styled, platinum blonde hair and her incredible legs that stretched out from beneath her sleek mini dress.

“How so?”

The gorgeous woman questions him daringly and my God, does it turn him on. If she asked to step on him with those killer stilettos, he’d probably oblige. He fights to keep his voice steady when he speaks next.

“Ah, like my jacket here. If you’re as cold as I think you are right now, I’d gladly offer it up.”

She hums in contemplation as she slides the pads of her fingers over the goosebumps spreading along her upper arms. They continue to study each other for another second until Blake gathers the courage to take the reins.

“Turn around.”

He reaches out and gently touches her shoulder, guiding her so that the smooth skin of her back faces him. He envisions running a finger, or better yet his tongue, along the deep arch of her spine, but keeps his restraint. Instead, he places his suit jacket around her and leans in to whisper his name in her ear.

“I’m Blake, just in case you were wondering.”

She rotates slowly so that his knuckles feather along her neck muscles. Much too soon, however, he has to loosen his grip on the rich fabric in order to let his hands fall to his sides. When their eyes meet again, he thinks he sees a familiar feistiness in her dark gaze.

“Thank you. Though, I wasn’t really _that_ cold.”

The producer’s dimples indent into his stubbled cheeks as he let out a deep, abrupt laugh.

“No, I’d actually have to agree. You’re definitely far from cold.”

In fact, he has to wonder what a pretty woman like her is doing out here, unaccompanied. It’s certainly her prerogative, but if she has a date, he is clearly doing it all wrong. Blake muses that he would only be so lucky to be able to show her the man’s faults.

“Can I get you a drink, or maybe your name?”

The blonde giggles while slipping her fingers around the outside of his. She then presses her thumbs into his palms and tugs delicately.

“No, but how about a dance?”

He listens for a moment, noticing that he can no longer hear a lick of sound coming from the gala. It is odd, and completely untimely.

“I’d love to, darling, but it seems that they may have moved on to speeches in there.”

She pouts playfully until his instincts kick in and she is forced to squeal into his collarbone with surprise. If what she wants is for him to lead her in a rudimentary waltz, despite the fact he has no music to pace himself to, then that is what he’ll do. Her body soon melts into his and for a brief minute, it is perfection. He continues to smile at her with both his lips and his eyes, displaying the genuine affection he has to give. He finds himself not wanting to let go because she looks so content in his arms, but his cell phone buzzes, jolting them both back into reality.

“I don’t need to answer,” he says immediately.

But, she has already distanced herself just enough for him to be able to reach into his pocket.

“It might be important.”

He shakes his head, dipping his nose down closer to the curve of her neck. She smells of sunshine and wildflowers.

“It’s not,” he mumbles.

But the damn thing rings again and again, causing Blake to sigh heavily. He quickly digs the device from his dress pants without so much as a look at the caller ID.

“Yeah?”

“Hey man, they’re having some problems with the soundboard in the audio room and I thought you could maybe lend a hand...”

He groans under his breath. Of course, Eric surfaces now, of all times.

“Sure, pal. Give me five.”

He glances at the blonde with a pained, deeply apologetic expression as she takes another step back to listen.

“Uh, my friend, Eric... he needs some help inside. Would you like to join me, or could I meet you at the bar when I’m through?”

The quick-witted woman stumbles on her response for the first time since she arrived in the garden, and Blake instantly feels his heart tumble in his chest.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His mind races to save the situation. There is a definite, palpable chemistry between them so he’s having trouble understanding what is happening all of a sudden.

“Could I at least get your number so I could take you for dinner sometime?”

The producer traces anxiously at his hairline with the very tips of his fingers, hoping for at least another chance with her, but she graciously declines his second offer, too.

“I’m not sure that I will be available for that, Blake. I may be relocating for my career. I’m really sorry for giving you the wrong idea.”

Dumbfounded, he moves toward the decorative double glass doors. Rejection is not something he is used to. In fact, this whole concept of him actually wanting to get to know a woman for more than a night has caught him off guard. He gestures for her to go ahead of him, but she holds her ground and begins to remove his jacket.

“Here, this is yours.”

There is a distinct sadness to her voice that both confuses him and appeals to him. It is like she has some kind of internal battle waged within her that needs sorting out. He quickly raises up his hand to stop her while setting the last of his dignity aside.

“You can keep it. My full name is embroidered on the inner panel should you ever change your mind.”

He then leaves her standing there, unable to take so much as a glance back.

*

Blake’s temples ache and his lungs beg to be filled as he makes his way through the room to Eric. He doesn’t even notice right away that the music is back on and some guests are dancing along. By the time he reaches his friend, though, his plan is more or less to say goodbye.

“Eric, I’m calling it a night. I’m tired and it sounds like you have everything under control.”

There isn’t any room left for discussion and his old pal knows it. He lifts a brow and stares at Blake with mild bewilderment, but doesn’t attempt to sway him otherwise. Instead, he unwittingly says something that hits the producer harder in the gut than any other choice of words could.

“That’s too bad, buddy. She keeps disappearing on me, but I was hoping you could catch up with Gwen…”

Blake blinks once before his eyes bug from their sockets and a vein pops from his neck. He feels his heart begin to pump blood voraciously, causing him to teeter with dizziness.

“Gwen? I thought she was in New York? I thought she was doing the nun thing?”

Eric shrugs.

“She is, but she’s home and in some sort of contemplative period before she decides whether or not she really wants to take her vows.”

Blake gulps hard to steady himself, but his voice still rises and shakes.

“Like chastity vows? The whole bit?”

Eric grimaces at the very idea of sex and his sister, but Blake doesn’t honestly care.

“Yeah… I guess? She’s here tonight to face temptation. Experience the parts of life she thinks she would be missing out on. Whatever that means.”

The producer has heard all that he can handle. The woman in the garden was her. And she had to have known it was him. Her actions are making some sort of sense now, and yet, he wished they didn’t.

“Fuck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing… just sorry we couldn’t connect.”

Blake makes a decent enough recovery to hide his maelstrom of feelings from Eric, but the truth of the matter is that he is furious. And jealous. And hurt. And still incredibly crazy about her.

What in the hell is he going to do?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and interest so far.. <3

Blake bolts through the ballroom as quickly and as politely as he can until he reaches the valet stand. He then loosens his tie to gasp for air. There are so many thoughts manifesting in his brain, so many questions threatening to spill from his mouth, that he feels as if he might choke.

Why would she play him like that?  
What is the end game here?  
Why didn’t she just say it was her?

He replays their encounter over and over again as he climbs into his idling SUV and drives toward home. His mind is so consumed that he barely heeds to the stoplights in his path, or to his rising speedometer. He questions every last detail of their interaction, but by the time his car is parked, no matter how he looks at it, he still feels used. If her goal was to explore her more sinful side, she aced it at his expense. However, he also can’t deny that there seemed to be shred of something more honest lingering in their connection. She must have chosen him for a reason.

Blake falls into bed almost immediately with his formal wear in a clump beside him on the floor. He feels irreparably drunk despite the fact he only nursed two glasses of vodka all night. He tosses and turns for hours, splaying limbs every which way until he finally has to throw up the white flag and move to the sofa. There, he finds some sleep, but only with a woman in red invading his dreams.

*

When the producer wakes the next morning, he finds that he is a little less angry and a little more intrigued.

How could someone so faithful deceive him in such a naughty way?  
What was it that drove sweet, loyal Gwennie to do such a thing?

He is admittedly no saint himself, but even he can’t figure out this wicked game.

He obsesses over his options while in the shower and as he cooks himself breakfast, torn on whether he should confront her or let it all be. Confronting her means involving Eric and he isn’t necessarily keen on that, but letting go means losing her just as quickly as he did when he was fourteen. He mopes about all morning and into Sunday afternoon, stricken by the decision.

It soon becomes clear, though, that a higher power is working another angle. As he half-heartedly watches his team’s football game, a loud buzz comes in from the condo lobby twenty floors below. Blake isn’t expecting guests so he immediately flips the television channel over to the live security feed. When he sees Gwen standing there, nervously twirling a strand of her golden hair, he has to do a double take and wipe at his bleary eyes.

“Hello?”

He activates the invisible intercom between them, despite feeling quite stunned.

“Blake… It's Gwen. Can I come up?”

He doesn’t say anything. Even after all of the thinking he did, he can’t seem to muster a single word.

“Blake… I’m sorry. Let me explain please.”

The producer snaps to and waves her off with a shocking amount of brevity.

“Eric already told me what you were doing there. It’s fine. I forgive you.”

He watches her glance up at the ceiling and shake her head with frustration just before she moves to plant her hand firmly on her hip. His face tweaks with a tiny smile because he can already picture what is coming next. She used to do the same thing when he and Eric refused to throw down the rope ladder to the treehouse.

“Can you stop being difficult for a second and let me up there, please? It’s important.”

Now came the part where Gwennie crossed her arms and bit her lip while she waited to see if the boys would give in. Blake hoists himself up off the sofa and looks on with amusement as she does exactly that on the screen of his television.

“Password?”

He mischievously challenges her, wondering if she even recognizes her old pattern.

“Wha..?”

She begins to react as if she has no clue, but then stops to glare at the wall mounted camera in the lobby. He can feel her fire burning through the lens.

“Are you kidding me right now, Blake?”

Her features flicker with a mix of exasperation and incredulity. He is suddenly enjoying this.

“Nope.”

She sighs.

“Squishy red wigglers… or big bass jerkbait. You two always changed it on me.”

He grins and hits the button that allows her access into the elevator bay.

“Come on up.”

The tall producer splashes some water on his face and hurriedly brushes his teeth before striding to the foyer of his condo. He also thanks his lucky stars that he at least thought to change into jeans and a fresh t-shirt earlier in the day, despite his foul mood. Of course, he knows he needs to temper his excitement and be a little more cautious, given the situation, but the fact that she is here to see him is fascinating nonetheless.

“Hi Gwennie...”

He opens the door to greet her and finds that she is beautifully barefaced and plainly dressed; a complete juxtaposition from the night before. Although, he supposes he is now a stripped down version of himself, too, which makes him feel oddly more comfortable about the integrity of their meeting. There is nothing to hide.

“Hi... I really appreciate this. I got your address out of Eric’s contacts, but he doesn’t know I’m here...”

She picks at a thin gold bracelet wrapped around her opposite wrist, seemingly unsure of herself and her purpose.

“Why don’t you come sit down and we can talk about whatever it is that you need to get off your chest.”

She nods curtly and follows him into his living room, where she sits stiffly on his dark leather sectional. The music guru gives her some space by choosing a spot a few cushions over. He then gives her an opening.

“So you’re almost an honest to God nun, huh?”

“Blake!”

Her head snaps in his direction, eyes wide and dancing with disbelief.

“Sorry…”

The corners of her mouth turn up at the apology and she relaxes her shoulders.

“Yes, I’ve finished my training as a postulant, but my mentor thinks I need to immerse myself in the real world for a little while to affirm my decision to fully commit.”

He scratches along the edge of his jaw with his index finger, debating where to take the conversation next. He hopes to glean more information from her, but can see that one wrong move may sink him.

“They let you do that? I mean… I guess that explains the very platinum hair… which I like, by the way...”

She smooths her hand over the silky, bleached strands while beaming a little more brightly.

“When in LA… isn’t that what they say? I actually thought Eric was going to lose it when he saw me all done up for the party.”

Blake chuckles airily before she continues on, knowing full well Eric would have had a coronary over her appearance.

“And to answer your question, yes, most places allow for reflection. Postulants aren’t technically formal members of the community so they have some additional freedoms.”

Relief washes over him.

“So how’s that been going for you?”

He casually pokes and inquires, causing her chocolate eyes to stop tentatively on his.

“Well, it had been going quite well, until Eric mentioned you a few days ago...”

Blake feels his heart lurch and his skin tingle, however he manages to steadily hold her gaze while she takes a breath between sentences.

“You see things like alcohol, parties, money… none of that has ever interested me much, Blake. I enjoy living simply and charitably. But you…oh, you...”

She sighs audibly and he shifts closer to her, his hands clasped in the form of a steeple below his stubbled chin.

“What about me, Gwen? Why did you do what you did?”

His tone is raw and whispered, but it might as well have been an angry shout the way it quickly strikes a nerve with her. Her voice becomes edgy and pointed as if he was the one who had done something wrong.

“Because you are tempting, Blake! Don’t you see? Call it unfinished business or lack of experience, but just hearing your name made me question my choice! I thought maybe if I saw you, talked to you, got it out of my system, I could lay it all to rest, but…”

She pauses indefinitely, as if completing her thought would make it all too real. However, he knows exactly what she is getting at. He finishes her sentence solemnly, understanding her predicament.

“But you felt it, too.”

“Yes.”

Gwen drops her head into her open palms with defeat. The producer instinctively rises to get her a glass of water. When he returns and she has taken a few sips, he asks another question.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

The blonde laughs quietly.

“Because I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I knew Eric had told you about my plans and I couldn’t let that affect how you approached me. I needed to see what you would do if I was just another woman.”

He paces the length of the sofa slowly, absorbing details as he goes. If she were any other woman, he would have tried to charm the pants off of her, would have insisted on making her scream with pleasure long into the night… would have watched her leave in the morning with a certain coldness in his heart. Yes, he can see her logic, but it all feels so bloody wrong to him now. Guilt snakes through his veins as he tries to convince himself that he would have done better by her. He felt like he wanted at least that much for them when they were dancing on the terrace, anyways.

“Fair point, but trust me when I say you aren’t just another woman, Gwennie.”

She stands up and moves so that she is effectively blocking the path he was etching in his hardwood. Her fingers grip loosely around his forearms and her doe eyes focus intensely on his.

“Blake, listen… It was so magical last night in the garden, but also so far from my truth that it scared me. Your lifestyle represents so much of what I’m against.”

He inhales and exhales deeply before looking away from her. His voice is uncharacteristically tentative when he finally speaks.

“So what now? You need to be able to say your vows without any doubt...”

The blonde touches her nose to his chest, sending warm breath floating through the cotton of his tee. It should be a sensation to bask in, but the Oklahoman can’t permit himself to do that because it is also a sensation that can never be his own. He tries not to think about her proximity when she faintly agrees with his statement.

“I know. That’s exactly why I’m here.”

His brow furrows as he slowly separates himself from Gwen. Her dilemma is obvious, however it is just now registering that she may also have a solution that quite possibly involves him. His stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Why do I feel sick all of a sudden?”

Blake lowers himself down onto the sectional and the blonde quickly shadows him, not allowing him a second to deny her.

“Hear me out before you say anything, okay?”

Her palm grazes over his knee as his nervously strokes at his unkempt curls. By her tone alone, he can tell that he isn’t going to like this idea at all. He glances in her direction hesitantly, but doesn’t dare interject.

“I want you to do something for me. It’s incredibly selfish of me to ask, and very unfair to be honest, but it’s what I think I need right now...”

Gwen begins framing her argument as he sits there beside her, stone still and skeptical. He tries to give her some leeway, but his brain is rapidly overloading with possible caveats and red flags. She is going to destroy him. He feels it in his bones.

“Cowboy…”

His stormy eyes bore into the dark depths of hers the second she silkily employs his childhood nickname.

“Just ask me.”

He murmurs succinctly, causing her lengthy lashes to flicker and her fingers to twist with agitation.

“Okay… Will you show me what it would be like... to be with you?”

He swallows hard as the air thickens between them. Her request is both everything he has dreamt about and everything he fears.

“You want me to date you as an experiment?”

Her teeth press gently into her bottom lip and her milky skin turns slightly pink at his blunt summation.

“Sort of… I’m proposing a fully immersive experience… I want to explore things with you, Blake… sinful things. I think it’s the only way for me to know exactly what I would be sacrificing in my vows. Can you do that for me?”

Blake closes his eyes and falls back against the sofa in utter disbelief. She is freely offering herself to him, but the deal comes all bowed up with an expiry date. Normally, this is exactly the type of arrangement he would strive for, however he can’t do this to Gwen. No way. Every rational cell in his body tells him he should run and yet…

“How long do you have here in California?”

His raspy words rattle around in the growing silence.

“Three weeks,” she whispers back.

Shit. A burning knot immediately lodges beneath his breastbone forcing him to adjust his frame and crack open his marine blues. It isn’t nearly enough time with her, however the desperate desire in her expression makes it impossible to say no.

“Well, I guess I should take you to dinner then to discuss terms?”

Gwen unleashes an adorably shy smile.

“You’re actually going to do this?”

He feels his facial features soften before he smirks at what is undoubtedly becoming an irresistible calamity.

“This is so fucked up, but yes, darling. I’m yours and you’re mine for as long as you’re comfortable.”

She lurches toward him happily, pinning his torso to the sectional. Her nails tickle his scruffed jaw as she speaks.

“Thank you, Blake. Thank you, thank you.”

Her lips then slowly, tentatively, follow the trail made by her finger scratch in order to place a series of barely there pecks along his skin.

God, she could ruin him.   
And if she doesn’t, Eric absolutely will.

It’s undoubtedly a no-win for the young man, but he figures if he is going to indulge her, he better do it right. And to him, that means taking his sweet time in showing her every last inch of what she would be missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still working full time from home and I sort of fell down the Tiger King rabbit hole in the last couple of days... but I promise that I’m trying to get this one mapped out and written up as best as I can... Thank you again for reading and supporting!


	4. Chapter 4

Blake waits patiently for Gwen to arrive in the shadowed corner of an old, greasy spoon just off Ventura. It’s a familiar place he likes to frequent when he needs an escape from the fast life. Ordinarily, he might label it as a bit of a safe haven; a quiet spot where he is unlikely to run into anyone he knows, but today, it is lacking that vibe. He feels like a sneak just for being here - a person who is about to be exposed for his less than virtuous transgressions.

“Menu?”

The grey-haired waitress asks with a piece of laminated cardstock already perched between her gnarled fingers. It serves to shake him from his thoughts.

“Yes, two actually. Thanks, Nessie.”

Her brow raises ever so slightly beneath the wrinkles lining her forehead. They have never talked a whole lot on any given occasion, but she is on the ball enough to know that he always comes to this restaurant solo.

“Old friend..”

He explains unprompted so that she doesn’t get any funny ideas stirring in her brain.

“Of course.”

She smiles and pulls a second menu from her apron before heading back into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Gwen walks through the front door to the chime of a worn, metal bell. She is wearing a long, flowing, floral print skirt and a black, collared blouse that is unbuttoned at the top so the summer breeze reaches her skin. Her hair is pulled back plainly, but she is the absolute definition of exquisite. The vision steals Blake’s breath and makes him want to kiss her until she is short of air, too. He stands to greet her and only sits down again when she is settled in the booth.

“So… Are we really doing this, cowboy?”

She laughs softly, yet nervously, as their eyes meet, causing his face to contort with worry.

“Only if you want to, Gwennie. I’m not holding you to it.”

He reaches across the table to touch her hand with reassurance. The producer is admittedly apprehensive himself, but mostly because he doesn’t want to disappoint her in any way. It is easy enough for him to shake off his own poor decisions, yet he doesn’t think he could forgive himself if she left this arrangement with even an ounce of regret.

“I know... That’s why you are perfect for this. Let’s order and then talk about it. That will help I think.”

The blonde heaves a sigh as he summons Nessie, whose old eyes regard them from over top her thick, plastic bifocals. Blake squirms under the unabashed curiosity, but manages to place his food request without spilling their whole, convoluted history. She has that wise grandmother look about her - the one that makes him feel transparent, and it’s incredibly unnerving. Thankfully, she’s gone from their table when Gwen’s gaze lands on him again. He turns his focus back to her, studying the woman she has become.

“How about we start with catching up… tell me about California and New York and what you’ve been up to since you moved.”

Her posture becomes relaxed as she takes his recommendation and begins talking.

“Well, high school was typical, I guess. I wasn’t popular, but I made it through. Joined a garage band with Eric for a while and worked a part-time job in a department store. My dad was strict so we tried to be good kids most of the time.”

His dimples flex in his cheeks when he conjures a picture of her as a teenage rocker in his brain.

“A band? That sounds rebellious, Gwen.”

She lets out a mischievous giggle that warms his insides.

“I guess. I was only allowed because Eric was there. It was a bunch of guys and they needed a backup singer.”

Blake stretches a long arm out across the top of his vinyl bench seat as he digests the information.

“Did you date any of them?”

Her lips press tightly together and he can see in the depths of her irises that she is weighing the relevance of her answer.

“Yes, sort of. I hung out with one boy and we liked each other, but it turned out he liked the attention of other girls, too.”

Blake scrunches his facial features and shakes his head faintly. That boy didn’t deserve her.

“Hmm, we’ll come back to that.”

Gwen shrugs before they move the conversation to New York. She explains how she went there for art school, but found herself volunteering often at soup kitchens and shelters run by the church.

“There is so much need out there and the nuns just helped me find my purpose. I am using my skills for good, Blake. I feel like I can make a difference and instill hope in others.”

The producer appreciates her nobility, but the whole idea still doesn’t sit quite right with him. He decides it’s within his duties to be the devil’s advocate.

“That is great, darling, but you can do all those things without actually being a nun. You can be a good person without living in a convent.”

Her eyes flash with irritation and narrow at the challenge.

“You don’t think I know that? The church was literally the first place in New York where I felt like I belonged. I can see my future there.”

He huffs skeptically.

“Did you even give yourself a chance before deciding on your life’s calling? I know money and parties don’t mean anything to you, but you’re twenty six, Gwen. How many guys have you dated? Did you check out Broadway? Go on a random road trip? Hell, try singing in some college punk band? Did you let yourself experience any of it?”

She surprises him when the flat of her fist drives down into the table causing their cutlery to clatter.

“No, and I didn’t feel the need to! Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make straight your paths.”

Christ. Blake pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. He respects her devotion, but he also hopes she sees that she doesn’t need to throw herself headlong into this out of fear or stubbornness. He can understand why her mentor asked her to take some time with this.

“Hmmm, and isn’t it interesting that His path led you straight to me? The antithesis of your perfect world? Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life!”

The words flow out of him loudly, if not a bit sarcastically, fanning the blaze building between them.

“Are you seriously quoting Prince to me right now?”

Blake shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to hide the small grin playing on the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so infuriating!”

She mutters with an accusing finger, prompting his dimples to indent even deeper.

“That may be true, but I’ve got your attention, don’t I?”

Her arms immediately cross with obstinacy so he skips to the point.

“All I’m trying to say is that I’m concerned you haven’t let yourself live enough. I think your mentor sees that, I think God sees that, or else we wouldn’t be here today. You’re an incredibly strong-willed woman, Gwennie, but I’m your match. If you choose to do this, I will push you out of your comfort zone because I want you to be sure when you say those vows. Damn sure, darling.”

His darkened blues absorb the flush of her skin and the slight bob in her throat just before their food arrives amidst the lull. When she speaks to him again, it is in a more hushed, demure tone.

“Blake, what do you want the rules to be for this? My rule is we can’t use the L word, or discuss the future. This is purely research.”

The term “research” serves to dampen his torrid mood so he takes a moment to push some vegetables around his plate obnoxiously while he thinks.

“My first rule is that you can’t argue with me if I want to spend money on you or take you to lavish places. It is part of the research. My second rule should go without saying… but we will use protection where applicable. Have you had sex before?”

Gwen fidgets and peeks around to see if Nessie has overheard them.

“Addendum… we cannot go to lavish places if there are people there that would know Eric. That would break my second rule that this is to remain a secret to our loved ones.”

Blake hums in consensus before raising a brow.

“Okay, and?”

She scoffs with a loud puff and sticks her tongue out at him, just like little Gwennie did when she was annoyed. It’s admittedly cute, but he’d like to think that that appendage has far greater potential these days.

“Yes I have. A few times with the band guy.”

The music man keeps himself from rolling his eyes because they’d probably get stuck staring at his brain if he did.

“Was it that bad that you’ve never cared to try it again?”

She considers his sincerity for a moment before choosing to answer with the type of truth that would bruise a man’s ego.

“It was nothing special.”

Anger prickles at his skin. Stupid boy.

“It can be, Gwen. Trust me. Are you staying with Eric?”

“Yes.”

The rugged producer contemplates his work schedule and how they are going to get around her brother. Sweat beads on his forehead at the mere thought.

“I have to be at the office through the day, but I want your nights to be mine. Can you lie, Gwennie? Can you come up with reasons to disappear for hours at a time?”

His voice breaks with a certain huskiness and the way she responds, the way she discreetly pulls at the inner thigh of her skirt like she feels him there, makes him swell in his jeans.

“I’m not a good liar, but I’m sure I can figure out something. You want me there every night?”

Of course he wants as much of her as he can get, but he fights the greed coursing through his veins and notes her hesitancy.

“Listen, we can cook together, watch movies on the sofa, whatever you want to make time for. Here’s the key card to my building and code to my door. The ball is totally in your court.”

She bites her lip and an electric tension crackles in the space between them.

“Do you do these things with other women when you romance them? Eric says you are lucky with the ladies.”

He groans audibly and wonders what other opinions his friend has shared.

“Remind me to smack him sometime, okay? And the answer is no. I treat women well, but I don’t tend to get overly personal.”

Blake scratches anxiously at his stubble as her hand slides across the table to gently squeeze at his other wrist.

“I will be there tomorrow night. Should I study anything in advance?”

Her blatant innocence almost drives him insane. He feels his fingers clench in slow motion on his chin and then roll so that his teeth can bite down on a knuckle. 

“Dessert?”

Nessie interrupts them with a twinkle in her eye and Gwen blushes for the umpteenth time since they started their crazy discussion.

“Just the check please… Actually, on second thought, I’ll take a slice of your chocolate cream pie to go. Thanks, Ness.”

Blake flashes her one of his signature smiles, causing Gwen to kick his shin under the table. The old waitress chuckles as she walks away with their dishes.

“What?”

He questions impishly.

“She thinks we’re up to something!”

“Well, we sort of are, aren’t we?”

She stares hard at him for a beat and then whispers hurriedly.

“With the pie?!”

The tall, broad shouldered man can’t help but writhe with a genuine belly laugh. He was just going to have it as a late night snack, but maybe he’ll have to set it aside for tomorrow. He locks his gaze on beautiful, sweet Gwennie and watches her closely as Nessie packs up his takeout box at the counter.

“Do you like chocolate pie, darling?”

“Maybe…”

She answers quietly and noncommittally, just before the box and a handwritten tab arrive on their table. The producer swiftly drops a couple of larger bills and then rises to leave.

“Thanks again, Ness.”

He hums politely while automatically reaching out for Gwen’s lower back.

“Nice meeting your friend...”

Nessie catches him with a sly wink and a verbal jab as the two would-be lovers find their way to the door. The young man smiles bashfully and flushes with the slightest hue of red.

They only manage to make it a handful of steps down the dark street before Gwen spins abruptly in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. One palm tentatively rises to his chest where he feels her fingers circling around the questions in her head. Bathed in the glow of a nearby streetlight, she finally tilts her chin to look up at him.

“What could we do with the pie, cowboy… theoretically?”

His free hand drifts to softly cup her face and as he moves his thumb to push back a stray strand of hair, he lets his thirsty blue gaze drink her in. He then murmurs into her ear.

“Theoretically, we could eat it, Gwennie. I could feed you bites and then taste the chocolate on your lips. If a little cream happens to fall on your collarbone, or down into the crevice of your breasts, I could use my tongue to lick it and savor it… I wouldn’t want to waste a drop.”

Blake observes how her features first flutter in astonishment and then freeze when she tries to mask her intrigue. He continues to hold her body close with gentle encouragement.

“It’s okay to enjoy a little dirty talk, darling.”

The blonde’s eyes fill with a searing desire just before she shudders and pushes herself away from him. Frenzied words soon follow.

“I… I have to go, Blake.”

For a split second, the producer wants to chase after her, but he keeps himself rooted long enough to let her flee. He has undoubtedly tested her limits, but hopefully not so far that she won’t come calling again tomorrow. He’ll put the pie in the refrigerator just in case.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I am struggling a bit to focus on this... So as always, thank you for reading! Your support means the world to any writer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... still here, still giving this a go :)

“Blake, are you feeling okay, man?”

It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and his assistant is finally asking the question that everyone has been dancing around all day. It’s a valid worry, to be honest, because the producer knows he has listened to songs without hearing them, read emails with no recollection of the messages contained within, and engaged in full on conversations with his colleagues that he couldn’t recap now if his life depended on it. He’s been undeniably distracted, and a shit boss for sure.

“You know what, Beau... I think I’m going to cut out early. My head is pounding.”

The younger man startles slightly before nodding with visible concern. Blake chuckles resignedly at his reaction while closing the lid of his laptop.

“Gotta use up that lieu time somehow, right? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay… Take care of yourself...”

At that, his assistant turns and slips quietly past the threshold of his office door, leaving Blake all alone. The producer sighs to himself and then stands to leave, too. Thoughts of Gwen are consuming his brain and he has to find a way to refocus fast if he is going to maintain any sort of control over the evening ahead. His childhood friend is counting on him for that much, even though she is the one that holds the kind of power that could bring him to his knees.

*

It’s just past six when the lanky professional hears the buzz signalling Gwen’s arrival in the foyer. His hair is still a little wet from his shower, and dinner isn’t totally prepared, but he feels admittedly lighter after a hard workout and a stroll around the grocery store. He stirs the vegetables simmering on the stovetop before padding barefoot to the door, clad simply in his faded jeans and white tee.

“Come on in. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen.”

He smiles easily at her, yet resists the temptation to linger too long, wanting her to feel as comfortable as possible in his home. She carefully removes her flats onto the mat before wandering slowly through his open style living area to a bar stool across from him at the island.

“What are you making? It smells so good.”

Blake’s dimples flare beneath his stubble as he sprinkles seasoning over a sizzling pan.

“Shrimp and veggies with rice.”

The gorgeous blonde hums her approval.

“I can’t wait.”

Their eyes connect for a moment and he is instantly afflicted by that sweeping, scintillating ache he feels when she is near. He grips the marble counter to ground himself just before she whispers apologetically.

“I’m sorry I left you last night, Blake... I wasn’t expecting things to get so intense.”

He inhales and exhales with measure, drawing his mouth into a tight line while organizing his thoughts. When he has his sentiments somewhat sorted, he expresses them quietly.

“When you’re attracted to someone, it’s intense, Gwennie… You and I… it’s not like you can douse an active volcano with one bucket of water... Having said that, I’m sorry as well. I should have controlled the narrative better.”

The producer keeps his gaze schooled on her as he begins to plate their meal. He catches the quiver of a giggle building on the edges of her mouth before it fully erupts.

“What’s so funny?”

She snorts and breaks into an adorable fit of laughter as the words begin to spill from her lips.

“Someone should seriously spank you for talking like you did last night, cowboy! Like, where do you even learn that stuff?”

His lids close involuntarily as he shakes his head lightly. God help him. He draws a slow breath before allowing his deep drawl to rumble forth with the same vehemence found in his eyes.

“Do you want to spank me, darling? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the one talking dirty now.”

The blonde’s expression goes from gleeful to serious in a heartbeat as curiosity swirls in her own dark irises.

“Would you like that?”

Blake calmly slides her steaming entrée across the island while boring his sapphire blues into her.

“Yes. I would like that. A lot.”

Gwen blushes on the spot at his admission. She then murmurs a pacifying prayer and takes to eating quiet forkfuls for the rest of their meal. Blake contently waits her out with the knowledge that she is far too determined, too bull-headed, to abandon her plan just yet. Eventually, she comes around.

“So, how do you go about having casual sex with someone? I need to know your secrets because I can barely handle this right now.”

He sets down his utensil and raises a brow.

“My secrets?”

She shrugs matter of factly, leaving a tic in his jaw.

“Well, for starters, let me just state that there will be no casual sex happening here tonight. Maybe, ever…”

“Why not?”

A whine underscores her tone, which partially dissipates Blake’s growing irritation. He cracks a rueful smile.

“I’m not a complete asshole, Gwennie. I would like to think that sex would happen organically between us, regardless of motive.”

“Oh... What are we going to do then?”

Her intoxicating, doe eyes search his and all he can think about is tasting her. He sifts his fingers through his wild curls, debating whether or not he should just go for broke and cross the line. He’s not exactly here to be a gentleman so he boldly unleashes everything he’s tried so hard to temper.

“I’m considering giving you an orgasm actually, because holy hell, Gwen, I’m bone tired of holding my tongue around you and I think it would do you some good.”

Her inhale is sharp, but he guesses she’s more turned on by his forwardness than anything.

“Are you okay with that?”

She blinks and can barely squeak her affirmation before he’s holding out his hand to escort her away from the bar stool. He sits her down on the sectional and kneels in front of her so that his fingers wrap gently around her thighs. His voice is soft, yet insistent, when he addresses her.

“I want you to focus on my touch and how it makes you feel. I’m not going to lie, it may be overwhelming at first, but you have to let those sensations consume you. Be greedy, Gwen. Allow me to worship you with my mouth until you fall apart…”

As if in a trance, she nods fervently and begins to peel her shirt up her belly and over her platinum blonde head. He grunts brokenly when he catches sight of her modest, silk bra.

“Fuck, Gwennie. You’re beautiful. You have no idea.”

He reaches to help her with the clasp, silently checking her eyes for permission as he does so. Her shaky fingers quickly drop away, granting him full access.

“I got you, baby. I’ll do the work.”

He releases the metal hooks deftly, discarding the fabric with one snap of the wrist. He then takes a second to let his heavy breath settle on her ribs before running the tip of his nose along one of the bony protrusions. She instantly arches into his hands.

“Blake…”

A low laugh rumbles out of him and he kisses the semi circle of skin just below her left breast. He can feel her diaphragm fighting for air beneath his lips and fingers. When his tongue decides to drag down her stomach and back up again, she sighs with obvious arousal.

“That a girl.”

He praises her and repeats the motion, but this time his thumb strays over one of her erect peaks.

“Oh God!”

“Well, that’s a bit naughty, don’t you think?”

The producer scolds her playfully before abruptly taking that same nipple into his mouth. He begins to swirl and suck with precision until she is panting and he has to adjust himself due to the tightness lurking in his jeans. It’s quite possible that they could both come like this and for him, that’s an extremely heady thought. His teenage dreams are materializing in ways he never really imagined.

To give them both a moment of reprieve, Blake moves on to her collarbone and neck. He nibbles at her skin lazily until she timidly pushes his head down to her other breast, asking for more. He obliges immediately, working her until she is so blissed out that she’s no longer watching him.

“Darling, I want your pants off.”

He growls raggedly into Gwen’s ear, nipping gently at her lobe while he’s hovering there. Her blown out pupils quickly spring to life and meet his with question.

“Trust me… please.”

She unbuttons her fly for him and he does the rest, pulling both her underwear and jeans off in one, smooth effort. His muscular forearms then brace on her inner thighs as he softly pushes her open.

“Jesus… you got waxed on the weekend too?”

The blonde huffs with a hint of annoyance.

“Yes, it’s not exactly against the law.”

He mutters obscenities to himself as he tries to reign in the rampant desire coursing through him. When his blood pressure levels, he sets his blistering gaze on her and slowly dips his head to swipe at her centre. She instantly yelps.

“Blake!”

He smirks unapologetically.

“Relax, Gwennie. Let yourself feel me.”

His long fingers move to steady her hip just as her silky hand digs firmly into his bicep. They manage to lock eyes again before his whiskered mouth begins to tease over her sensitive skin. He presses faint kisses at first, and then starts to circle her hot spot, waiting for her muscles to loosen around him. When she finally surrenders herself, he dives in.

Blake hears her moans get progressively louder and feels her pelvis flex against his lips as he rubs her deeper and deeper with his tongue. She’s so wet and responsive that he soon dares to dip inside of her, coaxing her closer and closer to that edge.

“That, cowboy. More of that.”

Her desperate, raspy sound immediately puts a grin on his glistening face. She is learning quickly what she likes, and bossy Gwen is someone he certainly will not deny. He allows his thumb to take over on her clit while his strong jaw goes to work giving her all the stimulation she can handle. She gets to the point where she’s pulsing and wriggling and pulling his hair so hard, that he can barely keep his rhythm. However, he holds on and moves to apply a bit of pressure to her engorged bud with his teeth, sending her into the ultimate tailspin. A high pitched squeal erupts from her and then his name flutters into the air, like a feather in the wind. It’s so precious and amazing that he swears he could watch her expression like this for hours. He gently milks her through her orgasm before slowly rising to stroke her upper arms. She opens her heavy eyelids while smiling languidly at him.

“Wow, Blake. That was....”

He laughs warmly when she can’t fully describe it.

“It was sexy as sin, Gwennie. You did well.”

The Oklahoman chastely pecks her forehead on his way up to a standing position, causing her to suddenly fuss.

“What about you, though? Don’t you need to…”

She points to the distinct bulge in his pants and he instinctively throbs.

“I’ll be alright. I’m just going to go change into some basketball shorts…”

He gestures towards his bedroom and she giggles shyly.

“Should that be our next lesson? My mouth on you?”

The producer grimaces with pain. For such an innocent human, she sure knows how to push his buttons. He daydreams for a moment about slipping his cock between her lips and then squashes the thought altogether. She’s not ready for him yet.

“Careful what you ask for, darling…”

Gwen studies him in silence for a long second before pushing herself up off the sectional. She steps into his towering figure, leaving hardly an inch in between them. He breathes her in, anticipating a rebuttal. It’s low and decisive when it comes.

“I want to feel it.”

Blake licks his lips and swallows discreetly. His plan to take this slow has already imploded mightily and apparently, so now has his resolve. His large hands swiftly cup her ass and lift her before her arms loop around his neck and they crash against a nearby wall. He grinds himself once into her naked body.

“You feel how hard it is for you?”

She moans and nods into his shoulder as he shifts her weight to one arm in order to flick open his jeans. His erection instantly strains against his boxer briefs and grazes her abdomen. He notes how her legs tighten around him for purchase so he flexes his hips into her again.

“You feel the size of it?”

Her molten eyes lock onto his and Blake recognizes the desire swirling, but also the flash of nerves threatening to break the surface. He hunches forward so that he can whisper in her ear.

“Remember this next time you make a decision about what you want. Be sure, baby, because I’ll give you whatever you ask for.”

He pauses for effect, and then promptly pins her more firmly against the wall, his t-shirt sticking tight to his back with perspiration. Gwen’s fingers grip damp tufts of hair as he begins to thrust his still clothed member purposefully over her centre. She whimpers with pleasure.

“Cowboy… This… this… will get me through… all the lonely nights...”

Blake comes suddenly and ferociously.

“No. Future. Talk.”

The clipped words are gritted out as he tries desperately to see past the remnants of the explosion shredding his soul. The blonde struggles to find friction amidst the new slickness, and although he promised he would fulfill her every wish mere seconds ago, he lets her feet slide to the floor.

“That’s it?”

He stares at her reddened cheeks and lustful, seething eyes and almost laughs given she was just literally singing his praises.

“You broke the rules. Your rule.”

Gwen’s palm smooths the golden crown of her head as a mix of dangerous emotion overtakes her face.

“Not fair.”

He chuckles sharply.

“Fair? Gwen, an hour ago, I bet you didn’t even know what an orgasm felt like!”

She pushes at his chest with enough strength to move him a step before brushing past him in anger. The producer sighs.

“I need to clean up. The guest bath is the first door on your left in the hall if you want to as well.”

He stalks to his bedroom and after taking some time to change, he sits for a moment to cool down. A swarm of uncomfortable feelings are ripping through him and he can’t seem to get a handle on them long enough to act rational. Like why did he want Gwen to experience sexual frustration just now? It’s so out of character for him to be less than generous with a woman.

Was it because she made reference to spending her nights alone, as if her mind is already made up about them?

Does he want her to change her mind, or does he want her to stay true to her dream?

He flops backward onto the king mattress with remorse and confusion biting at his heart.

*

After a substantial number of minutes, Blake emerges into his living area, ready to apologize. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had already left the place, but he is wholly relieved to find her platinum silhouette still bobbing over the edge of the sectional as she watches some home show on his television.

“Gwennie?”

She spins to peer at him, indignation still lingering in her gaze.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. What I did and what I said… it was inexcusable. I was being a jerk in a particularly sensitive moment.”

Her eyes close briefly before she twists subtly away from him.

“I forgive you. I do. I know that I’m asking a lot.”

Blake sneaks infinitesimally closer to her.

“I can handle it. I promise, Gwen. For what it’s worth, I’d say yes to you again. I’d say yes any time you needed my help.”

Her jaw twitches with a smile before she lifts a plate into view.

“You better hurry up and join me if you want any of this pie. It’s delicious. Maybe the best, most irresistible form of temptation I’ve had yet.”

A wave of shock slaps him off balance. She’s getting a dig in on him while simultaneously eating his fucking pie. It’s retribution at its finest, and he can’t contain the amused laughter that pours out of him.

“I don’t care what anyone says... you’re trouble, Stefani. The most unruly nun I’ve ever known.”

She savors a bite of the chocolate cream before responding.

“But you still adore me.”

He hops over the back of the sofa with a wary grin and a less than graceful thud, stealing the plate from her hands.

“Yes, I do, and there lies my problem.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope everyone is hanging in there. Much love <3


	6. Chapter 6

“Gwen? Is that you?”

After breezing through his day at the office and rectifying all of the issues he made for himself the day before, Blake is arriving back home at six on the nose. He’s never on time, generally, but he’s been aching to see this woman for hours and couldn’t stand to be away from her for even a minute more. It’s certainly a curious fact, given their rocky start, but the two were able to make peace for the rest of their first evening together, leading her to fall asleep in the crook of his arm on the sectional. It was a gesture that felt both alluring and natural to him, so much so that he was left jonesing for her as soon as she walked out the door.

“In the kitchen.”

He loses his shoes and unfastens the top two buttons of his dress shirt before following her voice into the main living area. Hints of tomato sauce and oregano waft through the air, igniting his senses.

“You’re here early. Is that lasagna?”

She smiles nervously.

“Yes, I brought it over to bake. I hope you don’t mind that I used your key.”

Blake shakes his head subtly and circles the island to get to her. She watches his movements closely, but doesn’t flinch when he invades her space to drop a gentle hand on her hip.

“First time a girl has ever cooked for me. Thank you.”

Gwen’s neck twists so that she’s gazing directly into his baby blues. She seems taken aback and humbled by this revelation, which prompts a brief shimmer of tears to form along her lashes.

“Stop it! Don’t you dare go soft now, cowboy.”

He chuckles affectionately at her idle warning before teasing her.

“Are you saying you’d rather have me hard?”

She immediately groans and taps him lightly across the jaw.

“Honestly, Blake. What am I going to do with you?”

His dimples pop with mischief as he swiftly catches her hand in his grip.

“Anything you want, darling. Just be sure.”

He then places a kiss in her palm and closes her fingers over the invisible mark.

He doesn’t wait around to see her reaction, instead choosing to drift away in order to let the statement breathe. It’s important that she comes to him tonight so he busies himself with finding a decent bottle of red in the pantry.

Would you like a glass of wine with dinner?”

She hesitates at his question, but then nods when he re-emerges, Pinot Noir already in hand.

“Yes, sure. I’ll give it a try.”

He smiles diligently and reaches to pluck two stemmed glasses from a cupboard over her head. However, his long body accidentally bumps into hers in the process, causing Gwen to shiver at the contact. She stops squaring off the servings in front of her and it sparks a noticeable change in the air between them. The tall producer sets down the goblets in order to massage the tightness out of her shoulders.

“Gwennie, hey… it’s okay. We maybe went a little fast out of the gate, but we can just sit here and talk tonight for all I care.”

She sighs with both relief and frustration as her golden locks drop backward against his broad chest.

“That’s the thing, Blake. I can’t stop thinking about what we did, what _you_ did, and I feel like a horrible person for waiting in anticipation of it… for wanting to do it again...”

He shifts discreetly to accommodate the flicker in his jeans, but doesn’t dare move another inch for fear of spooking her.

“You’re not horrible, darling. Fuck, you’re just human. How do you think we ended up with seven billion people on this planet? It’s all very elemental.”

She giggles softly when his hot breath blows close enough to her ear that it ruffles a few loose strands of hair.

“Jesus was chaste, cowboy. In fact, there are loads of people who can resist the temptation. Why can’t I?”

He inhales with measure before letting the warm air seep slowly from his nose.

“Jesus was a fucking saint, Gwen. There’s no competing with that. And why should you resist if it feels as right as this does?”

He presses his thumbs into her soft tissue one last time and then removes his hands from her, wishing she could somehow keep Jesus in her heart but him in her bed. He’s starting to pour their wine when her fingers slide tantalizingly over his belt line.

“For interest sake, what would our next lesson be?”

The producer pauses to absorb the fire licking at his gut. If he isn’t careful, it will soon burn out of control. He lets it rage forth until she reaches his buckle.

“Have you touched yourself before? Gotten yourself off when no one else is around?”

His low, gruff voice causes her to freeze in place.

“Yes, on occasion. I mean, I’ve tried it, but it’s sort of weird to talk about.”

He spins to face her, heat clear in his expression.

“I want you to show me tonight. I want you to use me as inspiration. You’re telling me you feel guilty about the orgasm I gave you, but what if I don’t touch you? What if you do it yourself?”

Gwen fidgets uncomfortably.

“You’re going to watch me?”

A naughty smile teases his lips.

“Hell yes, and then you can watch me if you please because I guarantee I’ll be _that_ turned on, darling.”

Gwen’s chest heaves with thick, sensual breaths as her chocolate eyes grow momentarily wide. His blood thrums so fast and hot that he feels as if he could burst into flame. After a long second, she whispers to him.

“I guess it’s worth exploring, but I want you to do it with me. Not after me.”

An excited grin spreads across Blake’s face.

“Dinner now, or dinner later?”

The blonde blushes and falls forward to smother her embarrassed smile in the depths of his solid frame.

“Dinner later, or else I’m going to totally psych myself out about this.”

At that, the music man scoops her into his arms and takes off down the hallway. She squeals with laughter until they both collapse onto his massive bed. Blake immediately locks eyes with her as he fights to steady his rapidly beating heart.

“You ready for this?”

Gwen nods subtly.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He lightly caresses her cheek before standing up to unfasten the rest of the buttons on his shirt. She studies each new expanse of skin so intently that a host of jitters takes up residence in his stomach. When the crisp fabric finally falls free from his shoulders, she murmurs thoughtfully.

“You’re not the same boy who skinny dipped in the lake.”

An airy chuckle escapes his lungs as he shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. We’ve both changed some since then, huh?”

Her expression turns mildly nostalgic, although her gaze remains focused on the sprinkling of hair below his navel.

“Yeah… We’ve definitely grown up.”

Blake slips his fingers down to his belt as she starts to shift around on his sheets. It appears a certain pressure is teasing her, but she’s not quite willing to address it just yet.

“Darling, it’s easier if you take off your clothes.”

At that, he tugs the strip of black leather from his own pants and unzips his fly. The dark denim hangs precariously on his hip bones as he waits for her to follow his lead. Soon, she removes her long, ivory tunic with eyelet trim and the pale yellow tights below it, giving him one hell of a view.

“Damn, Gwennie. I’m regretting the hands off rule already.”

She smiles appreciatively before her ravenous eyes drift downward.

“Me too, I think. Will you go first?”

The producer flashes her a sexy grin before reaching into his boxer briefs. His lithe muscles ripple when he gives himself a slow pull.

“Again…”

She breathes, and he notices how the pads of her fingers are tentatively pushing up the edge of her bra to get to her nipple. His blue irises darken at the sight as he strokes his burgeoning erection for her.

“I’m gonna move to the armchair so I can get comfortable. Keep going, baby. Show me what’s good.”

Gwen watches him like a hawk as he shimmies out of his jeans, her motions seemingly growing in confidence with every approving hum that floats past his lips. However, when he nudges himself loose from his underwear, she falters. Her mouth parts a fraction, but no sound comes out.

“What’s the matter? Band boy not measuring up?”

Blake smirks and sits before casually gripping at his length. She moans softly and pinches a rosy peak as if she’s trying to believe what she sees. When her eyes finally travel back up to his, though, they’re decisive and black as night.

“Cowboy, keep talking....”

A low growl breaks from his throat when she dips her free hand past the waistband of her panties. Sweat begins to form along the curls at the base of his neck.

“Gwennie, I want that silk gone. I’ve never done this before so I’ll be damned if I miss anything you do on my bed.”

A flush of pink spreads just north of her breasts as her hips lift to discard the fabric.

“You haven’t done this?”

The Oklahoman extends his legs and lets his head go slack before sliding his palm a little more purposefully over his member.

“No. Chalk it up as another first that belongs to you.”

She arches and mewls as her finger hits perfectly on that sensitive bundle of nerves above her opening. He groans audibly.

“Fuck… that was hot. Tell me you’re wet, Gwen. Let me think about how delicious it was to be between your legs.”

She startles at his naughtiness and then swallows harshly as another one of her strokes catches her in the best way.

“So wet, Blake.”

He closes his eyes and imagines his tongue thrusting into her while simultaneously pulling himself to the same rhythm. He’s so hard for her that it’s almost ridiculous.

“Are you imagining me down there, darling?”

When he opens his heavy lids, he notes how she swipes through her folds for lubrication before drawing fine circles over her centre. Her hair is splayed wildly across his pillow and her teeth are pressed into her bottom lip with concentration.

“Yes…yes.”

Her honeyed soprano quivers and it’s music to his ears.

“God, I want to help you finish so bad. I know I could hit that sweet spot inside of you with one finger.”

Her yearning, passionate eyes lock on him as he jerks roughly over his swollen tip. It coaxes the inferno inside of him to flare.

“Cowboy, I’m aching. I can’t...”

“You can.”

He growls fiercely at her. The Gwennie he knows can do this because she’s steadfast and stubborn, and unrelenting on a challenge. It’s partly why she’s so set on becoming a nun...

He abruptly checks himself and tries again.

“You can, baby. Watch me.”

Blake repeats the sentiment, this time in a quieter tone, before pumping himself violently. His forearm burns and the pulsing vein fueling his erection throbs, but he keeps his focus on her for as long as he can. She needs to see the faith he has in them. He has to get her through this.

“Gwen…”

Her grunts incoherently as her gorgeous face goes slack and a shrill cry rips from her lips. They’ve both reached their pinnacle and it’s the epitome of breathtaking. He tries to memorize the very picture of her lying sated on his mattress, but his brain is out of service, floating somewhere in the clouds.

“Blake?”

“Hmm?”

He lifts his head to peer over at her and immediately breaks into a smile. Her blissful aura is just that infectious.

“We did it...”

She coos luxuriously, making his face split even wider.

“We sure did, baby. Do you still feel guilty?”

She pauses and rolls onto her side so that her upper half is propped up by her elbow.

“No… more like ruined? It’s so much better with a proper visual.”

He chuckles and plucks a tissue from the side table to gently wipe himself clean. Normally, he’d hop right in the shower to avoid any awkward conversation, but it feels oddly normal to be just hanging out with her like this.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date tomorrow? Get out of here for a bit?”

She grins brightly at the idea.

“Really? That sounds like fun! But you have to stick to the rules.”

“I will, I promise.”

He holds up three, straight fingers to signal his scout’s honor, which she seems to accept in earnest.

“Okay then...”

Gwen steals a second to yawn and stretch with feline nimbleness before suddenly perking up again.

“Oh... I almost forgot. I think we’ll have to take Thursday off. Eric is upset that I haven’t been around since Saturday so I need to spend some time with him.”

The producer’s heart instantly stutters with disappointment.

“Okay... He’s actually been texting me as well. Wants me to go out for drinks on Friday.”

She frowns.

“So two days off.”

“Yep.”

She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and sits up with a sheet draped haphazardly across her thighs. Her brow begins to furrow as she studies him through the silence. Blake can feel her question brewing a mile away so he threads his fingers through his hair while he waits.

“Do you think you’ll miss me?”

He glances up to meet Gwen’s eyes.

“I think I’ve probably missed you for almost fourteen years now so what’s two more days? I’ll survive.”

The blonde stares impassively at him until he stands to collect his clothes. On a whim, he bends to ghost a kiss just above her temple before turning toward the bathroom. He’s barely half a stride away when she asks him for another truth. This time, though, her voice is soft and laced with vulnerability.

“Blake, why won’t you kiss me on the lips?”

He sighs aloud and wrestles with how to word his answer. It’s sort of stupid in a sense, and painfully revealing. His shoulders sag just before he turns to look at her with a wisp of melancholy.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, darling… It’s just… Your kiss is the one honest thing I have of yours and I’d like to keep it that way for now. Leave my memories of us untouched, you know?”

She nods with grace and mercy.

“I can understand that. I think I mourned the old us as well over the years. The us that never had a chance to be.”

He smiles sadly before leaning in to hug her with his free arm.

“I liked that us. Although I’ll take this version for now, too.”

Gwen hums introspectively as she skates her palm soothingly down the length of his back.

“You’re definitely going soft, cowboy...”

“Am not.”

He counters instantly and mulishly, causing her to giggle faintly against his skin. Deep down, though, he knows she’s right. Why else would he be willing to trade his heart for three weeks of her time?

“Ready for some lasagna?”

Blake quickly changes the subject as he pulls back slightly in order to offer her his shirt. The corners of her mouth tilt tenderly as she takes it and slides it on.

“Yes! I’m starving!”

And as he stands there admiring how stunning she is in nothing but his oversized button up, he realizes that he has been starving, too.

Starving of balance, starving of intimacy, starving of everything embodied in _her._

Fuck it. He’s not letting her go.  
No, he’s very much playing for keeps.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I think all I can do is cover my eyes after this one... but hopefully, it sets some things up for the story line ahead... 😊


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a moment to catch my breath this last week, but finally, another chapter in the books...

The sun is sitting low in the hills when Blake parks his SUV about half a block away from Eric’s place. It’s the specific rendezvous point that he and Gwen compromised on when he dropped her off in the wee hours of the night before. It’s not perfect, to be honest, but she initially balked at the idea of him driving her anywhere, given their rules, so he had to take what he could get. At least it allows him the opportunity to pick her up for their first, official date together. He knows he certainly wouldn’t have settled for anything less.

Outfitted in a slate grey button up and charcoal blazer, the producer exits the vehicle in order to wait patiently against the passenger side door. He’s admittedly nervous for the evening, but he’s got a good plan, something a little different than the ordinary. The gentle breeze and rustle of the overhanging palms works to calm him until he catches sight of Gwen gliding down the sidewalk a few minutes later. She looks like a dream in her lacy, lilac midi dress, so much so that his palms go clammy and he starts to sweat around the collar even more.

“God, Gwennie. You have to warn a guy when you decide to wear a piece like that. You’re an absolute angel, darling.”

She smiles shyly as he swings open her door for her and offers a helping hand.

“You’re pretty irresistible yourself, cowboy.”

Blake’s cheeks tweak with appreciation before she reaches for her buckle and snaps it into the base. He lingers momentarily and fidgets with the hinged metal instead of closing it.

“I would have brought flowers, but Eric may have...”

“I understand. It’s no big deal.”

She cuts him off so he nods subtly, latches the door and rounds the nose of his SUV. When he climbs in to fire up the engine, he tosses her a necktie from his pocket.

“Put this on for the ride. It’s not far.”

Her fingers caress the woven silk and her inquisitive eyes inspect his before she carefully loops it around her head.

“Hands on the wheel. No funny business...”

A small, mischievous laugh rumbles out of him.

“Gwennie, I wouldn’t dare…”

Her lips immediately purse with skepticism because they both know he would dare under the right circumstances.

“I just want this to be a surprise, baby.”

He pleads his case while feathering a reassuring palm over the top of her thigh. He then promptly removes it to shift the vehicle into gear. The blonde sighs with frustration before tightening the knot. 

“This better be worth it.”

A dimpled grin spreads across Blake’s face.

“I don’t generally disappoint.”

*

He plays with the tuner on the radio and sings along to some of the old classics as he begins to navigate the surface streets around them. Occasionally, he hears Gwen hum a bit or giggle, but mostly, she just sits contentedly through the fifteen minute drive. When he comes to a stop in his parking space at the office, he reaches to undo her makeshift blindfold. She blinks once and peers quizzically at the facade of the building.

“This is where you work?”

The idea to bring her here hit the producer as he was fiddling with a guitar loop earlier that morning. Creativity was a must and it suddenly seemed like an appropriate fit for their date.

“Yes, I booked the studio so that you can sing and I can show you what I do. It’ll just be us and our picnic basket in there.”

A variety of emotions flash through her eyes in the seconds it takes him to tuck the silk back inside his jacket pocket.

“You want me to sing?”

Blake meets her leery gaze head on and moves to interlace his fingers with hers on her lap. He squeezes gently.

“Gwennie, it’s for fun. I want you to get in the booth and just let loose like you would if you were in the shower, or a band.”

Her thumb strokes a tentative line down the edge of his pinky, sending a rush of sparks up his arm.

“You really put some thought into this.”

The crease at the bridge of his nose indents as his features crinkle with seriousness.

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

Her expressive eyes find his and he reads her answer without her even having to say a word.

Because I’m not truly yours.  
Because I’m leaving.

Blake wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and lets his stormy blues roam over her. His voice is pointed when he replies.

“I know you’re leaving, Gwen, but live in the moment with me. Let me fool myself into thinking you’re my girl.”

There is a delicate bob in her throat before her hand untangles from his in order to slip up to his scruff.

“Okay.”

His mouth tilts into a soft smile.

“Okay.”

On that note, they quietly exit the SUV to enter the modest, brick and glass building.

*

The studio itself is warm and inviting with its rich tones, oriental rugs and wood accents. In fact, it’s one of Blake’s favorite places to be, especially when he can keep the lights on low to accentuate the mood. He watches Gwen wander through the room with interest while dropping his basket of snacks by the lone, plush sofa.

“I love this place at night.”

She jumps a fraction when his deep sound breaks through the stillness. It’s as good of an excuse as any for him to close the gap between them and loosely encompass her in his long, strong arms.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blonde smiles while scribbling her finger absently over the curve of his bicep.

“Do you come here a lot? After hours?”

He breathes in her intoxicating scent while considering the question. He’s sure that she’s asking about other women, but it’s not like that at all.

“I don’t often leave, Gwen. I work late more days than not because there tends to be things happening, but even when there’s nothing, I just find myself sitting here with a guitar, enjoying the solitude.”

Her movements pause.

“So this isn’t a sex lair?”

He chuckles and rubs his large hands over her upper arms.

“No, this place is far more personal to me. It takes an incredibly special woman to hang out here.”

She pulls away from the producer, but he guesses it’s because she’s affected by his words. Clearly, when she asked him to show her what it would be like to be with him, she wasn’t expecting this. He takes a few minutes to adjust the microphone and hook up some closed back headphones while she reconciles her assumptions about him with the truth.

“Do you feel up to singing?”

Blake gestures towards his setup, which seems to snap her from her thoughts.

“I don’t know what song to do.”

He sighs softly.

“Sing whatever is in your heart, Gwennie. Belt it out and I’ll record it from behind the glass. I just want you to try it once. Show me what I missed.”

The blonde steps in closer, despite her uncertainty, and it induces a tiny grin to form along the edges of his mouth.

“Put the headphones on and wait for my signal, okay?”

She holds up a stern finger inches from his chest.

“Just once, cowboy. And then I want you back in here with me.”

He dips to kiss her forehead agreeably.

“Yes, darling.”

The producer strides into the attached room and readies the mixer while she anxiously twirls a strap on her dress. As soon as he is set, he catches her apprehensive gaze and nods. Blake’s hands automatically hover over the sliders in anticipation as his adrenaline begins to pump erratically through his veins. It feels like whole minutes pass before she finally emotes her opening verse.

You and me  
We used to be together  
Every day together, always  
I really feel  
That I'm losing my best friend  
I can't believe this could be the end  
It looks as though you're letting go  
And if it's real  
Well I don't want to know

The lyrics steal his breath and strip him raw. He’s never heard the song before, but it’s unequivocally familiar. When she hits the chorus, he can’t bear to tear his eyes from her.

Don't speak  
I know just what you're saying  
So please stop explaining  
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts  
Don't speak  
I know what you're thinking  
I don't need your reasons  
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts  


The remaining verses proceed to flow out of her in an increasingly doleful manner, and all Blake can do is grip at his curls and stare through the glass. In some ways, it’s like she’s singing about them and it‘s so haunting for him to think that there could even be a grain of truth to that.

Hush, hush darling...

When the blonde fades to a whisper in the last line of her outro, he stops the recording. He then waits five, full breaths for the color to return to his face.

“Gwen… I…”

He swallows nervously as her doe eyes scan him from the booth so he motions her inside to try again.

“Gwen, I’m speechless… to be honest. Where did that come from?”

She chews her lip while tracing her finger over the grooves in the soundboard.

“Eric and I wrote it.”

Blake’s stomach twists at the eerie confirmation, forcing him to squeeze tightly onto the backing of a nearby office chair.

“It’s amazing, Gwennie. I had no idea you could sound so… wounded. Should I even ask about the inspiration for it?”

She smiles wistfully.

“It’s about you. Although, Eric doesn’t know that because we wrote it a few years after we had all fallen out of touch. Remember the day we were sitting in the treehouse before I moved? I was crying and you were rambling on about all the things I had to look forward to? I didn’t want to hear those things, Blake. I didn’t want you to let me go. It’s silly, I know, because there was nothing you could do. We were just so young...”

He feels his insides crack into a million pieces and it inevitably seeps into his voice.

“I didn’t want to let you go.”

Her arms move carefully around his waist as a smattering of tears threatens to hijack his vision. He wipes them away briskly with the back of his hand before she laughs exasperatedly against his chest.

“You’re holding on to my kiss. I’m holding on to that song. We’re a pair aren’t we?”

His body shakes with a brief chuckle.

“Yeah, two giant sad sacks. What are we going to do to inject a bit of life into this party?”

Blake sees the lightbulb go off in Gwen’s brain almost instantly. A shy, mischievous smile creeps across her cheeks as she eases her palm over his pectoral muscle and into his inner pocket.

“Shit… Gwennie.”

He moans huskily when she seductively pulls at the end of his tie.

“Cowboy, I want today’s lesson.”

His hands go to her shoulders in an attempt to ground her, but he quickly realizes that his stall tactics will be of little use. Her gaze is dark and resolute.

“This isn’t what I meant, darling. I was planning on being a gentleman tonight.”

She sulks teasingly and presses her lithe figure against him while tugging at his lapels.

“Live in the moment, Blake.”

He groans and nuzzles his nose into the top of her golden locks.

“What have I done to you?”

Her giggle rings out leading the producer to exhale loudly. He gently pries her off of him to lock eyes with her again.

“Are you sure, darling? I’d love to christen this place with you, but it was never my intention.”

“I’m sure, Blake. I don’t want to go three more days without your touch.”

He curses under his breath as he slides his hand up the side of her neck and under her hairline. His thumb stretches out to graze over her bottom lip. He pauses subtly, and then leans in to kiss between his own knuckle and nail before bringing his other palm to her hip.

“Spin around, baby. Hands flat on the mixer.”

Gwen readily complies as he quietly removes the silk tie from his pocket. He lets the tip of it tickle along her hamstring and the arch of her spine before he secures it around her head. When he issues his instructions to her, it’s soft and slow, like lazy ocean waves.

“Keep your legs spread and your ass out. I’m gonna use my fingers since you wanted them so badly last night.”

Blake catches a flicker of a smile on her cheek as he dips to scrape at the strap of her dress with his teeth. He moves it partially aside before ghosting his hot mouth along her muscle line. When she lets out a lusty sigh, he retreats.

“You’re beautiful, Gwennie. You always have been. No one can compare.”

She wriggles in an effort to find him so he gently lifts the hem of the lilac fabric onto the small of her back, splays his hand wide across her belly and steps forward to press his erection against the crevice of her behind. His other palm smooths reverently down the length of her curves.

“Gah!”

A strangled moan escapes her when he spanks suddenly and smartly across the swell of her rear.

“Beautiful, but naughty. You know that?”

He soothes the sting with meticulous care only to do it again; a lightning quick snap of the wrist that sends electricity surging through them both. She shouts throatily.

“Blake! Oh!”

After a couple of minuscule thrusts of his pelvis, the tall Oklahoman peels her underwear aside to slip his finger through her slick folds. It garners another cathartic vocal reaction that makes him dizzy with desire.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

He begins to rub lightly over her centre, before teasing her opening with the odd, little push. When she widens her stance, he focuses on dipping deeper to massage her inner wall.

“Ohhh… that feels… nice.”

He chuckles warmly to himself, knowing he hasn’t yet hit the spot that will drive her wild. He glides in and out nonchalantly before curling his finger.

“Oh! Sweet baby Jesus...”

Gwen squeals and mutters desperately as her arms brace hard against the soundboard. He instantly grins with satisfaction and continues to work her higher while his other hand grips firmly from hip to breast, and from breast to slender bow of the neck.

“More, Blake!”

She rasps authoritatively so the producer carefully fills her with a second digit. He then sets a slow, steady cadence with both his fingers and hips. Soon, she’s rocking to meet him and he can literally feel her losing her control. He bumps the heel of his palm against her bud to help her along and smacks her ass with a crisp thwack.

“That’s it, baby. Ride it out.”

“Cowboy!”

He plucks his tie away from her eyes just in time to watch her unravel. He then hooks his free arm across her collarbone to hold her weight.

“I’m not letting go, Gwen.”

He drops soft kisses against the sheen of her skin as he listens to her breathe.

“I’m not going to tell you how great it will be this time because I’m selfish. I want you here with me.”

Her body shudders through one, last tremor before she whispers past her shoulder to him.

“For how long, though, Blake? You know how different we are. This is for the best.”

He blows out a shaky puff of air and straightens the hemline of her dress.

“You’re scared, Gwen. And I am too. But at some point you need to admit to yourself that we could be good together. Real good. I mean people wait lifetimes to feel like this and it’s always been there for us, since we were kids.”

A speckle of concurrence darts through her eyes when she stands to face him, however her resilience shines brighter.

“Stop with the future talk, okay? I can’t promise you anything.”

He smiles almost imperceptibly.

“Just think about it. Plans change everyday, Gwennie.”

The stubborn blonde doesn’t necessarily acknowledge his words, but Blake believes she heard them, despite her invisible, ironclad wall.

“Shall we wash up and get back to our date now?”

She bounces her chin guardedly.

“Will you play the guitar? Like you used to do?”

He reaches out to touch her hand, asking her to hold on, begging her to hold on.

“Of course. Anything for you, darling.”


End file.
